


Drifts Dreaming

by Estirose



Category: Earth: Final Conflict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-25
Updated: 2008-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:06:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1633085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estirose/pseuds/Estirose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Liam dreams, he dreams of many things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drifts Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Jewels

 

 

In the sea of sleep, he drifts, dreaming.

Liam Kincaid is not human in his dreams. He is shapeless, formless, a distinct being of light. And yet, if he were conscious, he would know that this shapelessness is incorrect; the Kimera were, as far as he knows, humanoid in form, if energy.

Or maybe they weren't. Somewhere in his dreams, he knows they took many forms. Driven by the need to join with other species, to look through other eyes, to explore, there might not be any form to call their own. In his dreams, he dreams of the forms that his ancestors took, of the people they loved, of the plans and experiences and amazing things that they saw. Things he may not remember consciously, but he dreams of glories long forgotten and species long killed off.

Somewhere in his dreams, he eats grass, or something like it, a yellow-green savannah as far as his eyes can see. Maybe there are mountains in the distance. He doesn't know, won't remember this dream. And sometimes it shifts to the beauty of a spectrum human eyes can't see, picked out in the night sky of a world with two moons. A host that's an astronomer, that picks out the stars for his lady love.

And somewhere out there, he remembers in his dreams, is a host who was bloblike, living in a swamp. Vision in black and white and greys, but from a million different eyes, a million different cells. A joy in seeing everything that the host has to offer, a joy in the abundant life of the place he lives.

In a desert land, a humanoid host that remembers each life he's lived mourns the loss of his partner of many lifetimes, dying a final time in a brutal war with sentient parasites that think nothing of enslaving others. And then, finds understanding in a cloud of sentient gas in space that has seen others die, drifting apart molecule by molecule in the vast cosmic space.

He could see the beauty in a thousand worlds, some still in their orbits, some with the original inhabitants still there, some dead, dust, or otherwise lost. He mourns and loves in his dreams, remembers fondly people who enriched his ancestors' lives, watched war and starvation and hunger. Remembers his ancestors' hunger for more, more, more. More worlds. More lives. More things to embrace and remember, to catalog and touch and make last forever.

But he doesn't remember at all when he wakes up, no hints of his rich heritage of a thousand worlds, a thousand dreams, a thousand hopes. Maybe someday he will, when he grows up. When he becomes all that he's meant to be.

And in the meantime, he still dreams.

 


End file.
